Another Day
by SoWrightSoWrong
Summary: The home life of two gay lawyers: a oneshot Phoenix/Edgeworth happy domestic fluff fic, written for the kink meme.


A/N: OH MAN I FAIL it's been so long since I've been here, because I've been _too lazy_ to upload fic. How sad is that? Anyway, here's some fluff. Written for the kink meme, like almost everything here, lolz. The prompt:

_To get my spirits back up after that Alzheimer's fic, I want Phoenix/Edgeworth **happy domestic fluff**._

It doesn't need to be overtly romantic, they don't have to whisper sweet nothings - I'd actually prefer it if it focused on the ins and outs of daily life. Go into the boring shit - like what groceries do we need to buy and when are we going to call the plumber about that drippy faucet and where the hell did you put the laundry detergent?

I just want some warm, comfortable fic about living with someone you love.

As the anon who wrote said Alzheimer's fic... yeah, I felt kind of obligated to do this, haha. So, um. This is my penance? Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Another Day

Phoenix wakes up to find Miles staring at him.

"We need to do the laundry today," he says in a very serious voice.

"Good morning to you too," Phoenix replies, leaning over to kiss him on the nose.

Edgeworth blinks at him. "It's your turn. Also, brush your teeth. I'm going to shower." He pauses, then gives him a peck on the forehead. "Good morning, Phoenix."

The other man gets out of bed, and Phoenix is left lying there with a ridiculous smile on his face.

-

"Bless you," Phoenix tells Edgeworth in advance as the other man steps into the bedroom, wearing a bathrobe and toweling his hair.

Sure enough, Miles starts to sneeze furiously. "Thank you," he tries to respond in a dignified manner, but since he sniffs loudly in the middle of it, the effect is lost on Phoenix.

"Have I ever told you how cute your post-shower sneezes are?"

"Only yesterday, and the day before," Edgeworth replies, repeating the words of yesterday… and the day before. He throws on a button-down shirt and slacks—even on a weekend, he can't be just casual, but _formal_ casual, whatever the hell that means. "Get out of bed soon. I'll be cooking breakfast."

"Mmmhmm," Phoenix says.

-

He scarfs the omelet down in about five bites, then looks at Edgeworth, who is daintily cutting away at his own omelet with a knife.

"Very elegant," Miles says.

Phoenix grins. "Thank you, I pride myself on my gracefulness. It's one of my best qualities."

The other man snorts into his glass of orange juice. "Of course," he scoffs, a small smile playing on his lips. "By the way, I'm going grocery shopping after this. We ran out of eggs."

"Can I come?"

"Absolutely not."

"Aw, Miles—"

"You spend _entirely_ too long in the candy aisle. And then when I move on you're still there, and then you can't find me anymore and you have to ask the manager for help. Do you know how mortified I was when I heard the intercom asking me to come to the front of the store to retrieve a grown man?"

He blushes. "What if I promise to follow you the whole time?"

"You have to do the laundry."

"Oh. Right."

Edgeworth sighs. "I'll buy you candy, Phoenix. And maybe rent a movie. What do you want to see? The third Pink Princess DVD is out now, I hear—"

"_Absolutely not_," Phoenix drawls, grinning at him. "Besides, I get to choose this time."

"You know I'll force you to watch it eventually, right?"

"Yeah, but I'd like to put it off as long as humanly possible."

"You are such a spoilsport," Miles says with a perfectly straight face, and after a second, both of them can't help but laugh.

-

"Is the heater broken?" Edgeworth asks as he steps through the door, placing the groceries carefully on the counter. "I expected it to be warmer when I came back. It's almost as cold in here as it is outside."

"Oh… yeah," Phoenix replies, glancing up from the phone book. "I was trying to figure out who to call about that, actually."

"The number should be on the fridge."

"Really?"

"Yes, I keep an up-to-date list of all the repair services we may be interested in, organized both by cost and—"

Phoenix rolls his eyes. "I saw that. It's about the most complicated thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Didn't I explain it to you when you moved in?"

"Whoosh," he replies, his hand flying over the top of his head.

Miles raises an eyebrow. "Alright, give me the phone. I'll make the call. Did you do the laundry yet?"

Phoenix grins sheepishly at him. "Um… theoretically, yes?"

He dashes off before he can receive the Edgeworth glare.

-

"You're very good," Edgeworth says from behind him, causing Phoenix to bang the keys of the piano noisily in shock.

"Christ, Miles, I didn't hear you at all."

"Hardly a surprise, considering how loudly you were playing."

"It's, uh, a fun tune."

"Of course. It's the Steel Samurai theme song. What's interesting is that _you're_ the one playing it, even though you constantly denounce the show. Not to mention it's your ring tone."

"Yeah, well, hang around Maya long enough and these things just kind of start to worm their way into your brain, you know?"

Miles sits down next to him. "I'm disappointed, Phoenix. I would have thought _I_ was the one responsible for these, ah, brain worms."

Phoenix smirks and taps Edgeworth on the nose. "Jealous?"

"You wish. Play something else for me."

"Demanding, aren't you?"

"I do believe it's one of my finer traits."

He grins and starts to patter away at another song. He has no idea what it is—just something he learned when he took lessons as a child—but it sounds passable, so he keeps on going.

"I've heard you play this before. Paul de Senneville, _Mariage d'Amour_?" Miles asks when he's done.

"What?"

"Isn't that what you were playing?"

"Uh… maybe?" A slow smile slides over his face. "Makes sense, anyway… amour, 'cause I'm totally in love with you, am I right?"

Edgeworth looks like he's trying not to laugh. "Thank you, that was an extremely romantic way of putting it. You have successfully courted me."

"I aim to please," he answers.

-

He opens a bag of fruit snacks and promptly picks out all of the grape ones. "Here you go," he says, pushing the rest of them toward Miles.

"Come on, you know you can't hog all of them," Edgeworth replies, not even glancing up from the Sunday paper.

Phoenix makes a face and reluctantly relinquishes a grape gummy.

-

Edgeworth is dozing in his seat, a book held tightly in his hands and a bit of drool trickling out of his mouth.

Phoenix bends over to read what's on the cover as he walks by, then chuckles to himself. "You know, Miles," he says loudly, "you can't expect to ever finish this book if it puts you to sleep every time you try to read it."

"The Magistrate is behind you!" the other man yells, eyes snapping open.

Phoenix gives a fake gasp and looks over his shoulder. "Aw, wait, you tricked me."

"What?" He blinks, feels the saliva on his face, and begins to gingerly pat at it with a napkin as a blush creeps across his cheeks. "I, ah… the Magis—uh, no, never mind. Wright, I'll have you know that this is an extremely fascinating read—"

"Objection!" Phoenix interrupts, grinning. "It's impossible for something entitled _Modern Introduction to International Law_ to be 'extremely fascinating'."

"Only because you're completely uneducated. What's the book you're currently reading? The one with the furry woodland creatures on it?"

"_Redwall_, and I'll have you know it's a children's classic."

"_Children_ being the key word here."

"H-hey!" he stutters. "I read adult things too!"

Edgeworth raises an eyebrow. "'Adult things'? Don't tell me you have a stack of _Penthouses_ hidden under our bed."

Phoenix flushes. "That's not what I meant. Though…" He tries to smile suggestively. "If you want to engage in certain adult things right now…"

His attempt at seduction fails. "I'm afraid I would much rather read this at the moment."

"Ouch, you burned me good," Phoenix says mournfully.

Miles only grins as his eyes return to the book.

-

"Laundry?" Edgeworth asks as he stir-fries some vegetables.

"Dammit," Phoenix replies simply.

-

As he pulls the sheets off the bed and tosses them into the hamper, a flash of movement catches his eye. He looks toward it. A cricket.

"Miles," he calls out, hoping that Edgeworth can hear him from the kitchen, "help me, there's a bug in here."

"You're a grown man, you can kill it yourself," comes the amused reply.

Phoenix huffs. "Can I use the Raid?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"Do you really want me to lecture you about the dangers of using insecticide in small enclosed spaces again?"

"But our bedroom is a _big_ enclosed space!"

"No."

Phoenix sighs, resigned, and knows he's going to have to kill the bug using different means. Tossing his slipper at it doesn't do anything, though, nor does tossing the other one. Finally he decides to man up and swat at it with a wad of paper. After five excruciating minutes of chasing after and trying to hit it, the cricket finally dies, and so he scoops it up with the paper. For a second, he toys with the idea of scaring Edgeworth with it—it would serve him right, not coming to help him out—but since the other man is cooking tonight, doing so would probably not be relevant to his interests. He eventually flushes it away.

By this point, he's completely forgotten about the laundry. Again.

-

He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out two mugs. "Hot chocolate? Heater's broken and all."

"Mmm," Miles says, cleaning up the leftovers of their dinner.

Phoenix warms up some milk and pours it into their mugs, adds hot chocolate mix to both, and places exactly five marshmallows and a dash of cinnamon into Edgeworth's cup.

"Yes, five, no more and no less, you picky, picky man," he assures him as he sets the mugs onto the table.

"Thank you, Phoenix," Edgeworth replies, smiling a little.

They drink.

-

"Crap, the laundry," Phoenix moans to himself as he passes by Edgeworth, who is reading that book again. With a nervous glance at the clock, he throws everything into the washer and hopes that Miles won't notice how much he procrastinated with this.

-

When he finally walks into the bedroom carrying a load of finished laundry, Edgeworth is perched at the end of the bed in his pajamas, looking disgruntled. "Took you long enough," he says. "It's cold and there are no blankets."

Phoenix holds the basket out like a peace offering. "Uh… fresh out of the dryer? Everything's warm."

"We have to make the bed first, though," Miles points out. "And by then the sheets will have cooled."

"Actually," Phoenix replies, "we could just roll up in them. Right now."

"But that's messy and we'll be lying right on the mattress."

"I'll make the bed properly tomorrow. I _promise_," he adds when Edgeworth arches an eyebrow. Before Miles can protest any further, though, Phoenix pulls the other man into bed with him and wraps a blanket around them both, sighing contentedly as he feels the warmth of the sheets press against his skin. "So?"

"Not bad," Edgeworth admits. He puts one arm around Phoenix's waist. "I… suppose you could put off doing laundry more often."

"Beautiful," he says, nuzzling his face into the other man's neck.

"But Phoenix?"

"Yeah?"

"If I come home from work tomorrow and the bed's not made, I really will have to hurt you."

A grin appears on his face. "Kinky."

He is rewarded simultaneously with a kiss and a kick in the legs.

Life, he thinks, is pretty good.


End file.
